


What do you need?

by CulterVenatorius



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Caring Hannibal Lecter, Established Relationship, M/M, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 11:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CulterVenatorius/pseuds/CulterVenatorius
Summary: Hannibal caring for an exhaustd Will.Without plot, without skill.





	What do you need?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a soothing little something for myself. I like strong Will and I tried to not depict him as weak but as a person who needs some tlc from time to time – like we all do. Don’t we? English isn’t my native tongue, as you sure will notice.  
Please don’t judge, it’s stupid, I know. I wanted to share nevertheless.

“What do you need, Will?”

He wanted to be hold, to just let go. 

He was too exhausted to put it in words. 

Hannibal knew nevertheless, bound as they were to each other. He sighed when strong arms encircled him from behind, gently pulling him back until he leaned against Hannibal’s solid chest. He felt safe, and cared for. It had always been hard to allow weakness, even to himself. He was meant to work hard, to be strong. First to support his father and to make him proud. To give him something back for all the things he went through for his son. And then it was a means to survival, to hold the pieces of his mind together, those ones that really belonged to him and not to all the people he couldn’t avoid empathizing with. So he learned to deny his needs, to lock them away and to get cold and unfeeling towards himself. And then came Hannibal. Hannibal, who hadn’t seen him as a fragile teacup, but as the fierce hunter that was buried deep inside Will. Hannibal learned about Will’s strength when he was lured in by him, when the profiler revealed his secrets and when he was left in his own kitchen, knife against his throat. When Will gave in, then, after long seconds of silence, when he allowed himself to see and be seen. When he kissed Hannibal instead of slicing him open. He knew Will as a hunter, standing above his victim, covered in blood and with a vicious smile grazing his lips. That was what enabled Will to let Hannibal take care of him. The man saw him for what he really was and he didn’t judge Will for his needs. He wanted to sate them, wanted every part of Will, wanted to fill every hole that could possibly be there. And Will was able to let him, because he knew that Hannibal needed this almost as much as he himself needed it.

Hannibal carded his fingers through Will’s curls.

“You’re exhausted.”

Will nodded. Thought about Jack’s yelling, the burden he put on his team. Thought about the students who didn’t seem able to follow his train of thoughts, who asked the wrong questions, who were hardly what he would call the FBI’s hopeful future.

“You need to let go, Will. I will gladly take care of you if you want me to.”

Will nodded once again, turned in Hannibal’s arms halfway and buried his face in the crook of the other man’s neck.

“A hot bath then, I think, and a good night’s sleep.”

Hannibal cradled him in his arms and carried him to their bedroom. Will’s eyes drifted shut when he was carefully lowered on the bed. He tried to solely focus on the sound of water filling the bathtub. He felt rather than heard Hannibal returning and stood up, gladly taking the other man’s hand and letting him be guided into the bathroom. The smell of lavender enveloped him as Hannibal carefully undressed both of them, his touches soft and loving, not sexual but rather reverently. Like handling something priceless, something too important to be damaged, regardless of how indestructible it was or wasn’t. When Will was settled once again between his husband’s legs, his weight supported by the broad chest, he closed his eyes. Hannibal massaged his scalp, his shoulders, stroked down over his arms and linked their fingers together.

Later, when he was toweled dry, clothed and tucked in under soft blankets, curled up against Hannibal, face to face, he closed his eyes and mumbled “You. I need you.”


End file.
